The Elf of The Shire
by entling
Summary: A rewrite of my first story, The Elf of the Shire. A strange elf is living with Bilbo in the Shire. Who is this girl, and why does Bilbo call her 'Aunt? Where did she come from? Will the dwarves accept her on their quest, or...will she even go on their quest? What is Bilbo doing!
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, I feel compelled to apologize for this. I tried to get back to writing Elf of the Shire, but I hated it. I still have a few problems here and there, but this way I've at least been able to find inspiration. Hopefully I haven't cut out the things that all of you liked as I've tried to clean this up. I left the original up so you could enjoy it and maybe compare them if you've a mind. Also, I found myself writing Aster's back story instead of leaving it to a few paragraphs as she speaks to the dwarves. I really hope you enjoy it. Feel free to let me know. As always, I do not own the Hobbit or any associated movies, etc. I just enjoy playing in Tolkien's world. Oh, and I have to mention that any information on timeline and characters came from the Appendix C from Lord of the Rings and Wikia, one ring to rule them all. I love the internet. I also made up just a bit. I have no idea how the Dunedain encampments really work.**

Primrose smiled at her cousin, Daisy Brandybuck. They were really looking forward to the party they had been invited to tonight. Unlike any other invitations they had received over the years, it was unique in that it wasn't from hobbits.

She hitched the bow over her shoulder, and settled the dagger at her hip. Any proper hobbit would be scandalized at such accessories, but their hosts wouldn't mind. Indeed, their hosts were the ones who had taught them how to use them, and would be horrified if they left them behind.

She did put on a pretty blouse with her leathers, though. She looked herself over critically. Perhaps a few flowers for her hair if they found the right ones on the way.

Checking to make sure her cousin was also ready, she darted out the door with a laugh. As they left the smial they had purchased together after their comings of age, they got several disapproving looks from their neighbors.

This was nothing new, and they ignored it. Everyone looked at them like that, even some of the Tooks and Brandybucks. Their mothers had warned them on more than one occasion that they needed to tone their Tookishness down some, or they would never find husbands.

It hadn't concerned them very much. Indeed, they had joked about looking through their Ranger friends for husbands more than once. This had horrified their mothers.

Daisy gave her a look then dashed ahead, laughing, and she gave chase. They paused to catch their breath as they reached the ferry at the borders of the Shire. They needed to be a little more serious now, to prevent any...mishaps.

The borderlands were fairly safe thanks to the Rangers, but there was always the possibility that something had snuck past them. Still, they made good time.

Primrose smiled as they reached the edges of the semi-permanent camp the Rangers kept as a rest stop for their patrols. She helped Daisy braid her chosen flowers into her hair, then held still as she did the same for her.

She met her cousins eyes and they shared a conspiratory grin. If their mothers could see them declaring themselves single and looking to be courted like this...well, few Rangers really understood the language of flowers anyway, but it was the thought that counted.

They continued on to the main Hall, one of the few permanent buildings in the entire camp. They were surprised to see some magnificent white horses they'd never seen before in the adjoining corral.

Well, perhaps they wouldn't be the only visitors, then! They entered just in time to hear their dear friend, who also happened to be the Chief of these Men, making his announcement.

"...and I would like to toast my lovely wife and my new son, Arador! May he have a long and blessed life. To my family!"

"TO YOUR FAMILY!"

They dodged a bit of flying ale as they made their way further in. They greeted the lovely woman holding her young infant with enthusiasm, and spent the next hour cooing over him and congratulating his mother.

They had actually been a little surprised to see them here, as the Dunedain rarely allowed their noncombatants to leave their hidden city. (That they really weren't supposed to know about, but they'd been around long enough to pick up a few things.)

However, their friend had been a Ranger before her marriage and subsequent pregnancy, and had wanted to see her friends. Her husband could never really deny her anything.

They finished their greetings, then left to allow others to take their places. As Primrose let her gaze travel along the hall, she noted that there appeared to be a drinking game taking most of the attention over in one corner. Well, they might see what that was about later but first...there were a great many men without dance partners, as there were few female Rangers... so time to dance!

Daisy seemed to have the same idea, as she was already dragging a partner onto the dance floor. They danced until they started to run out of partners quite a few hours later. She looked around, wondering where they were all getting to, and once again noticed the drinking game in the corner.

The crowd had thinned quite a bit, and even as she watched, an unconscious fellow was hauled off by his friends to find his bed. They arrived back a few minutes later and rejoined the crowd. She looked over at her cousin, who had just finished a dance, and jerked her head at the corner.

Daisy nodded, and they drifted over to find out what was going on. They were both entranced as they saw the two elves sitting at a table, surrounded by the Rangers, with tankards filling the table in front of them. Finding one of her friends faces in the crowd, Primrose tugged on his hand.

When he looked down, she gave him a flirtatious smile. He grinned back, and answered her questions willingly. It appeared their guests had taken up the challenge to see how many Rangers they could drink under the table. Well, it had started out as a challenge from just one, but as he hadn't lasted long and his friends had taken up his honor...she laughed and watched.

She counted thirteen before no more willing challengers could be found. There weren't many Rangers left, anyway, and they were all older and perhaps wiser than their companions. They were gathering at the fire to smoke and swap tales.

She looked around once more. It seemed the party was almost over. The dance floor was deserted, and the few men remaining that weren't smoking were taking friends to sleep off their excesses. She looked back to the elves as one spoke, with his voice rather slurred.

"Is that it? No more challengers? Well, Ro, looks like we win!"

He swayed lightly in his seat. She looked away, amused, but Daisy's voice jerked her attention back quickly.

"No, you haven't. My cousin and I challenge you!"

She hissed at her cousin.

"Daisy!"

All she got back for her efforts was a mischievous look. She sighed. Her mother would surely not approve...but she hadn't really done anything her mother approved of since she was a tween. She allowed herself to be pulled down to the bench, and smiled at the golden haired elf across from her.

/

She groaned as she came to several hours later...she had never felt such a pounding in her head before in her life. She felt something warm shift next to her and peered over her shoulder to discover a rather...unclothed male next to her. She eeped and did her best not to scream.

Gently pulling his hair away from his face, she was horrified to discover the elf from the night before. Elves never married outside their Race, everyone knew that...well, maybe a few in the First Age, but none since. This could be supremely awkward.

She stilled, then squared her small shoulders. No. She was not going to stick around to be pitied, or put up with awkward apologies. She slipped out of the bed, and started searching for her clothes. She was relieved to find everything.

Then she went looking for her cousin. It was actually only the work of a few minutes, as she was just a few doors down, having apparently found her own elf. Being very careful not to look at him, Primrose covered her cousins mouth and shook her lightly.

After a brief, hissed conversation, they slipped out of what they found to be the guest house. Sneaking out of the camp, they ran for home. They were determined to forget anything had happened, though they would discover that was easier said than done, considering...

They were completely unaware of the chaos they had left behind them as two elf lords woke up, realized what had happened, and started looking for their new brides...only to realize they didn't have any idea who they could be. Just a few flowers left on their pillows.

No eye witnesses, either, and every female in the compound denied any involvement. They suspected this was because every Ranger would know their customs, and the affected ladies wanted different marriages...so they didn't look too hard. They wouldn't take a ladies choice, after all, and whoever they were they were only likely to live a few decades.

If anything else came from the night, the other Rangers would make sure they heard of it. So they packed up and left for home, disturbed in mind and determined never to take a challenge like that again.

/

Primrose and Daisy discovered the consequences of their actions a few weeks later...but were determined not to allow anyone else to tell them what to do. They would raise their children on their own, and when they were old enough they could find their fathers themselves.

They kept them far from any elves or Rangers, and did their best to raise them as hobbits. They did have a few problems doing so, however. Their children wanted to learn archery and weapons work, and the other hobbits avoided them for the most part.

This meant that their children didn't get to interact much with anyone who wasn't part of their little family unit. They did have a few cousins brave enough to play with them, but not many.

/

As the years passed and the children grew, they found contentment in their circumstances. The slights that had so hurt as children no longer stung so badly, and they found that they enjoyed each others company more than anyone else's.

Their mothers were not that surprised when they chose to marry, though they did try to convince them to wait a few years. They may be of age by hobbit standards, after all, but forty-four was still very young for their father's people and they didn't look much older than tweens.

They were determined, however, and married in spite of any and all objections. There weren't that many guests at the wedding.

Oh, the other hobbits probably would have come if they'd invited them, it was a party after all, but they only wanted those there that could actually say they were true friends and family.

Which meant a few of their mother's tenants, Primrose's brother Gerontius and his family, and one or two of the wilder Brandybucks.

They built their own smial, and settled down to live. A few years later they welcomed a beautiful little girl to their family. Golden haired like her father and his father, and grey eyed like her mother and her mother's father.

Her ears were even more delicately pointed than her parent's, and her hair waved more than it curled. Indeed, there was very little hobbit in her looks, though they thought the soft curve of her face might count. If she didn't grow out of it.

No matter what, though, they thought she was the most beautiful baby they'd ever seen, and her grandmothers agreed.

She grew slowly, and often did what her parents had never gotten away with: she snuck off to watch the elves as they traveled to and from the Grey Havens and the Blue Mountains. Sometimes she even talked to them.

They were always happy to see her, though they did ask after her parents all the time. She simply told them that her parents lived in the Shire and didn't want to speak to them. Of course, word of her quickly spread to the other elven settlements, and the elves living in the Shire were investigated as discreetly as possible.

Meaning they sent in a Ranger who wouldn't be so out of place. He reported back that he hadn't seen the elf, but he had seen two other obviously half-elven older children, so the likeliest scenario was an elf married to a hobbit that didn't want to associate with his kin and alienate his wife's friends and neighbors. Nothing to be done.

The Ranger couldn't stay long enough to learn more, as he was all ready getting suspicious looks. So he went on his way with no one the wiser, and the little girl got to continue her adventures.

She didn't realize it at the time but the exposure to the fair Race woke something in her and she was given the Choice her parents hadn't received, inherited from one of her Grandfathers.

While she wouldn't understand this gift for many years, she ignored her slow growth and simply basked in the chance to be. She was adored by her parents, her grandmothers, and her Tookish family. She followed in her families footsteps, and learned to shoot a bow and fight with a dagger.

She was a reckless little thing, and often led her cousins in imaginary battles and play. She was always the first to climb a tree, or steal from Farmer Maggot. Everything was wonderful, and there were no clouds in her small world. Until one winter, the snow arrived early, the temperatures plummeted...and the Brandywine River froze solid.


	2. Chapter 2

**As ever, I do not own the Hobbit and am making no profit from this endeavor. That said, I really want to thank Narsil for his advice and feedback. I really love it when you guys let me know what you think, and what you want to see. I hope all of you are enjoying young Aster. I'll get back to older Aster eventually, I promise. Oh, according to the timeline I found, at this point Fortinbras would be about 27 and Adalgrim about 25. Bilbo comes in at about 15. Just so you know. **

Aster grinned brightly and gave a loud 'whoop' as her sled plunged down the slope. Technically, at thirty-three, she was considered an adult and should have given up such childish games...but she wasn't about to let sensibilities keep her from having fun on such a beautiful day as this.

Winter had come early, with a three day snow storm, and not even the freezing temperatures were enough to keep the younger inhabitants of the Shire from enjoying the thick snow.

She stuck her tongue out at her cousin Fortinbras as he sped past her, Adalgrim on the sled behind him. She laughed as they plowed into a bush that had almost been covered with snow and upset their sled, legs and arms flying everywhere.

She was so distracted by the sight that she missed the bush just ahead of her, and her cousins got their own chance to laugh. She retaliated with a handy snowball, and their sledding expedition soon deteriorated into a snow war free for all.

As they finally slowed down, exhausted, she cast a glance at the sky. It was starting to get a little dark, and she knew she needed to get her cousins home or she'd be the one getting the scolding. Sometimes she hated being the oldest, especially since she technically looked younger...but that was a worry for another time.

"Hey! Come on you two! If we don't get home soon it'll be no dessert for a week again, and no snow days, either!"

Fortimbras reluctantly let Adalgrim up from their snow fight, and came towards her, grinning. Adalgrim finished his rather amusing dance to get the snow out of his collar, and followed him. As they tramped their way back to the Took smials, they rough housed and laughed with each other.

Aster did her best to hurry them along, but they were still more than half an hour late. After being hauled in and forced out of their wet clothes, they curled up by the large fire place and enjoyed a hot cider. Granny Chubb made the best ever!

Aster snuggled down in between the boys, content in the simple warmth. She noticed some frowns on her older relatives faces as they gathered in the chairs. She caught her mother's eye, who simply shook her head. No information forthcoming, then.

She wondered what all of the adults had been discussing today. It wasn't often that they all gathered here, especially without the excuse of a birth, death, or wedding. As much fun as it was to spend time with her cousins, she was still curious.

Perhaps they'd make finding a way to eavesdrop their next game. She almost snorted to herself. Preventing such a thing had probably been the reason the scoldings they'd gotten for coming in so late had been so mild, without any loss of privileges.

She turned back to listening to a rather hilarious story Fortinbras was telling involving mud, a pig, and Farmer Maggot but she kept a bit of attention for observing the adults out of the corner of her eye.

/

She was certain the next day, when they only received five meals, that the adults were more concerned than they were telling. She listened to the other children whine, but prevented herself from joining in.

Wild she may be, and reckless, but she had always had a sense for when things were serious. In the following weeks she continued to play outside with her cousins, but now she took the bow her father had gifted her with eight years ago.

Fortinbras and Adalgrim had made fun of her at first, but at her grim silence and their parents worried expressions, they had quickly changed their minds and started begging for lessons instead. The sledding and snowballs fights had almost petered out after a while, making way for mock fights and archery practice.

Their parents had shared uncomfortable looks when the boys begged for bows of their own, but had reluctantly allowed it. This overjoyed the boys, but just worried Aster further. She was thus unsurprised when the meals were cut back further, to three a day.

As many of the other children complained, she shared looks with Fortinbras and Adalgrim. They understood the seriousness behind the action too. As she listened to their stomachs grumble, she knew they should be grateful.

Thanks to their elders early actions, they still had the food for three meals. Many families were down to two or even just one a day. She hoped the rest of her family would be all right.

Most of the Tooks lived in the Great Smials, or like her own family were close enough to simply move in as necessary. However, there were a few that had moved away with their spouses, such as her cousin Belladonna. She had a young one, too. Bilbo would be what? Fifteen now? Just a kid, anyway. She really hoped they were doing all right.

As yet another month went by, another worry joined the rest. She had heard whispers that the river was close to freezing solid. It had never done so before in all of the years they'd kept records. A week later, it was confirmed. The barrier that had protected the Shire for so long was gone.

Aster felt her heart freeze for a moment when they heard the Horn of Buckland sound its deep call. She jolted into action a moment later, calling for Fortinbras and Adalgrim to help her herd the fauntlings they were watching back to their homes.

Several of them lived several hills over, and for those she deemed too far she shouted instructions to stay with them until they got to the Great Smials. The adults could decide whether to send them home, but she wasn't going to take any chances.

She was grateful for that decision when reports came in of giant white wolves crossing the river. If one of them had been harmed because of her...she didn't even want to think about what she'd be feeling.

Her parent's had given her proud looks, and her great uncle had officially commended her, but as good as those things made her feel she found herself unable to shake her fear. Things just kept getting worse and worse!

She was trying to be strong for her younger cousins. They had always looked up to her, and they did so again now. She couldn't show them how scared she was, and she couldn't talk about it with her parents. Whenever she had tried, they'd gotten fixed smiles on their faces and told her it would be all right. It was 'just a bit of an adventure.'

She pulled herself into a tighter ball. It was late, and all of the younger set were all ready asleep. She had slipped away, though, to finally find a quiet corner and cry. It had been coming for a while, and she wasn't sure how long she had huddled there, sobbing as quietly as she could.

She felt a gentle hand on her head. How had she not heard anyone coming? Hobbits were quiet, true, but she had very sharp ears...usually. Giving up that line of thought as unproductive, she reluctantly decided she should acknowledge the intruder. However, she found she just couldn't care.

She was exhausted. She had held in the worry and the fear for so long, and now that it was all coming out she just didn't have the energy for anything else.

"Oh, child."

She felt strong arms surround her as she was pulled onto her grand-uncle's lap. She found the tears falling once again, and simply buried her head in his neck and wept. He held her there for hours, simply rocking a bit with an occasional comforting hum.

She must have fallen asleep, for when she woke up she found herself back in her bed. She was hesitant to come to breakfast after embarrassing herself that way, but with food as scarce as it was no meal was to be missed. It would have caused her cousins to talk, anyway.

She ducked her head as her uncle sent a soft smile her way, but otherwise kept his silence. She was grateful. They were all distracted when her cousin Isumbras entered, a grim look on his face. She was herded out of the room with the rest of the youngsters.

She could have protested that she was an adult. She was pretty sure that most forgot her age since she didn't look older than a teen. A hobbit teen. She allowed herself to be shooed, though.

She was still feeling a little raw from the night before, and wasn't sure how much more bad news she could take right now. When she saw the grim faces the adults sported afterward, and the reddened eyes of many of them, she felt her remaining curiosity falter.

She definitely didn't want to know.

It seemed she had no choice, however. Great-uncle Gerontious looked over each young face in front of him, then spoke in the most serious tones she'd ever heard from him.

"I want all of you to listen very carefully, all right? You need to know that all of us love you, and will protect you. However, you have to help us so that we can. From now on, there will be no more playing outside except for small periods of supervised play in the yard. You are not to travel anywhere past the front gate for any reason. You are not to open the door without an adult's permission."

At the sulking expressions on some of the fauntlings faces, he became very stern and solemn.

"We aren't telling you this to be mean, or to keep you from your happy play. We are telling you this because Misty Bunce and Holman Bolger didn't make it home last night. They were taken by the wolves."

At that most of the fauntlings started to cry, while the rest had shocked faces. Aster felt her heart sink into the ground. She had known the two, even if not well. Their mothers didn't want them to associate with 'those wild Tooks' so she hadn't played with them often, but they were almost her age. Certainly if they hadn't been able to fight or flee, no small fauntling would have a chance.

She promised with the others to obey the new rules, but her mind was miles away, caught with a new thought. If the wolves were targeting hobbits, which was now a certainty instead of just a possibility, her parents would be right in the middle.

They were both Bounders, and well thought of ones at that. As one of her younger cousins crawled into her lap looking for comfort, she forced herself to push her worries away. What would happen would happen and there was nothing she could do about it.

If this lasted much longer though she was going to join the Bounders herself, no matter what her parent's wishes were. She had the years of an adult, if not the body, and her archery was as good as any in the Shire. She could focus on doing something useful, instead of drowning in worry while distracting the fauntlings.

/

There were happy greetings the next day. It seemed that Belladonna had had enough, and after the reports of missing hobbits had come in her husband had finally given in. They had packed up their son and all of their remaining food and headed for her family smials.

Everyone was grateful that they had made it safely. It was shortly after they arrived that the entire smial was shocked as growling and scratching came at the great round door. It seemed a pack of wolves had found their scent and followed them.

Aster found herself being herded into the back rooms with the youngsters, and finally put her foot down. She ducked away into her room with her mother's voice ringing in her ears. As she came out with her bow and daggers, her mother faced her with a white, unyielding face.

"You can just forget it young lady! You head back into the safe room with the other tweens, right this minute!"

She scowled, her eyes stormy. They were starting to attract looks.

"No. I will not sit back while others fight and put their lives at risk anymore! I'm not a tween anymore mother! You can't tell me what to do!"

As they stood, stiff-backed, the sounds of twanging bowstrings and yelping wolves faded and died. As the threat was driven off, hobbits started to return, stumbling over the awkward scene as they came.

As more and more gathered, Aster held her head high in spite of all the scrutiny. She knew instinctively that if she gave in now, that she would be relegated to the ranks of tweens for the rest of this never-ending winter.

She couldn't handle that. She refused to back down. She refused. As her mother started to furiously say something else, she was cut off.

"She's right, my dear. You can't legally stop her."

Her mother whirled, retort dying as she saw who was behind her. Aster looked at her great-uncle warily. He had spoken for her, but he didn't seem to be finished. He let his weary eyes meet hers.

"That is not to say that I think that she should be throwing herself into danger. But it's getting worse out there, and I'm afraid we'll need every bow before this cursed winter is through."

With that, he sighed and turned to shuffle away, looking older than she had ever seen him. She let herself worry for a moment, then met her mother's eyes briefly before turning to her cousin Hildigrim.

He was the one currently in charge of the Bounders, and it was time she joined. He looked between her determined face and her mother's white and strained one, and winced.


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, I really hope all of you are enjoying this! A special thanks to those who've expressed an interest, with a great big thanks once again for Narsil! Well, this is the chapter where we really see some action...I am never sure how well I write it. But it's nice and long, anyway. Let me know what you think!:)**

Aster did her best not to pant too loudly as she struggled to keep up with Hildigrim. She'd been allowed her wish after a rather loud and drawn out argument, but her mother was not happy and there was likely to be a rematch when her father finally returned from his Bounder duties.

He'd been assigned to a group that was based in Hobbiton. Which is where she was currently headed, with her cousin as her mentor/bodyguard. He would normally have waited for reinforcements before heading out, but they had expected a report almost thirty-six hours before and he was worried.

He wasn't foolish enough to go out alone, of course. Besides her, there were seven others. Her mother was out there somewhere, scouting their path ahead with another Bounder.

Belladonna was watching behind with her husband, Bungo. He had no formal training but had simply placed himself by his wife's side without a word, face daring anyone to comment. Hildigrim had of course tried to say something, but the look he received was enough to make him bite his tongue.

The other three hobbits were trained Bounders, with her cousin Isengar being the youngest of the bunch at forty-four. She fought off a momentary doubt. She could do this. She had to do this.

They were less than thirty minutes from Hobbiton when they got a rather unwelcome surprise. They turned, weapons ready, as Belladonna gave a cry. Aster felt a rush of nervous energy, which swiftly gave way to shock as Bungo dragged three young hobbits forward.

Fortinbras, Adalgrim, and Bilbo shuffled their feet guiltily. The older two had their bows, but Bilbo only had what appeared to be a kitchen knife. She closed her eyes, guilt dragging her head down.

If she hadn't forced her mother to allow her to come, she would have been able to prevent this. They probably wouldn't have even tried without her example to lead them. This was her fault, her responsibility. If anything happened to them...

They were moving on, the boys getting a sound, if quiet, lecture from all of the adults in turn. She simply placed herself behind Hildigrim and refused to look at them. As they rounded the last bend in the road before the hills of Hobbiton, they started to hear a great clashing sound.

Aster stared in horror as they rushed forward, finding a vantage on a hill. There were orcs in the Shire! There appeared to be only about a dozen, but the bounders defending the homes looked about to be overrun. Even as she watched, one went down and didn't get back up.

She forced herself not to see his face as she looked desperately for her father. There! An arrow was in the air a moment later, catching an orc that was sneaking up on his back. She sent another, and another, more arrows joining hers.

The orcs were cut down, but the remaining Bounders didn't even slow down. They grabbed any that were wounded and sped up the hill. She was confused. They'd won, hadn't they? Then she heard the calls on the wind.

As her father stumbled up to them, he placed his burden on the ground, taking Adalgrim's bow and ordering him to hold the Bounder's wounds closed. Then he was turning, facing the howls that were carrying to them.

Hildigrim was shouting orders, and the wounded and youngest were being shoved to the center of the hill, while the experienced Bounders were placed around them in groups. Her parents and Belladonna were in one group, but Bungo had joined the wounded and was doing his best to get them tended enough to be able to fight if they had to.

She turned to Hildigrim for orders.

"I'm sorry, Aster, but I need you with the wounded and children. You can aim in any direction there, and keep them safe. I need those who're used to working as a unit everywhere else."

She felt bitter disappointment, but simply nodded. She wasn't going to screw up anything else with her pride. She felt her eyes seek out her parents. She met her mother's eyes, silently trying to apologize. Her mother smiled lovingly, if a little strained, and mouthed 'I love you.' Then she turned to face the incoming mass of fur.

Aster followed her eyes, and felt a chill go up her spine. There were more orcs, a lot more, and these ones were riding Wargs. They were only coming from one direction, so after a moment she readied her bow. She did have the sense to wait for a signal, unlike Fortinbras, who got a swift reprimand for his shot. Even if it did take down an orc. She sidled up next to him.

"Try to aim for the Wargs. They'll injure their riders as they fall, and even the field a little bit!"

He nodded, never taking his eyes from the oncoming threat. She cast a quick glance behind her. Adalgrim and Bilbo were standing guard over Bungo, and two of the wounded Bounders had managed to get back to their feet and were guarding the other side.

She brought her eyes back forward as Hildigrim ordered them all to be ready, then to fire. As their arrows streaked down, she watched as orcs fell from Wargs and Wargs stumbled and went down, most of which didn't get back up.

As they were finally allowed to fire at will, she did her best to destroy an enemy with every arrow. She was doing fairly well, but she could see her parents ahead of her. They were poetry in motion, and every arrow was a kill.

They were decimating all the enemies in front of them, and few were getting through to the close combatants. No Wargs were getting through at all, though she felt a small fission of pride that she was helping with that.

The tide seemed to be turning in their favor, and then she spotted movement from the corner of her eye. A troop of five Wargs and their riders were sneaking up on her parent's group.

They had obviously pegged them as the biggest danger, and were determined to take them out. She screamed a warning, her next arrow aimed for the lead Warg. Her hands had started shaking, however, at the threat to her parents, and it sunk into a large muscle in the Wargs shoulder instead of its head.

Her parents were turning, and their partners with them, but the Wargs had time to build up a charge. Before she could do anything further, she was pulled to the side by Fortinbras, avoiding a spear to her heart.

A small group of orcs had managed to use the distraction to sneak up the hill, and were attacking the wounded. She screamed in anger, charging the spear wielder with her dagger as he lurched, unbalanced, from his miss.

As she sliced his throat, she heard a disturbing cry. Bilbo was staring at his father, who had thrown himself between his son and an ax. Bungo managed to swing his knife as he went down, forcing the orc back long enough for her to get there.

She stabbed him brutally, then turned to defend Bilbo. Most of the orcs were down, but three of the wounded had perished with them, and Bungo was lying far too still. She knelt to check on him, searching for a pulse.

As her eyes filled with tears, she locked gazes with Bilbo. As she slowly shook her head, his face crumpled in grief. He looked so young! She rose and pulled him into her arms, searching around for any more threats.

Mercifully, it appeared that the battle was over. She spotted Hildigrim, looking very tired as he made sure of each orc and Warg. She thought that wise, and jerked her head at Fortimbras. As he came over, she gently handed Bilbo to him, then turned to clear her area. As she beheaded the last, she felt a presence behind her.

She whirled, only to find the grief stricken face of Belladonna. She was confused as Belladonna's face went white as she saw her husband and became distracted. If she hadn't been grieving Bungo, what had put that expression of such deep sorrow on her?

She remembered then that Belladonna had been part of her parent's group, and turned to search for them. If her cousin was back, surely they would be here soon? She felt her face pale as she saw Hildigrim speaking with Isengar, then turning to her.

She suddenly felt that she didn't want to hear his message. Whatever had put that look on his face...

When she learned her parent's had been killed, she didn't believe her cousin at first. She demanded to see for herself, and refused to let anyone stop her. She dodged grasping hands and fled down the hill to where she'd seen them last.

She found several bodies, placed in a line with their cloaks covering their faces. She didn't need to pull them away. She recognized those pants. She'd given them to her father as a gift, each stitch lovingly placed. And she'd seen her mother's outfit just that morning, how could she forget it?

She stopped.

She suddenly didn't want to look beneath the cloaking fabric, to see the damage and blood. She felt a little faint, and felt her knees give way. She barely noticed as Fortinbras and Adalgrim came up beside her.

She didn't remember the rest of that day, the cleanup and travel to the inn in Hobbiton.

The inn keeper had been delighted to host the hero's who'd saved them all, but she didn't respond to his expressions of sympathy. She didn't respond to any of them. She placed her head down when told to, and ate what was put in her hands, but all she could see was the Wargs coming for her family.

She roused enough to be grateful when they finally made it back to her great-uncle's smial. She wanted to sink into her bed and never get up again. Of course, first she had to face her grandmothers.

They were both horrified, and while Primrose gathered her into her arms, Daisy simply sunk into a chair by the fire. She didn't leave it for two weeks.

Primrose tried to get her cousin to come to bed, or eat something, but she rarely complied. Finally, one night she turned empty eyes to Primrose and apologized for her stupidity all those years ago. That was all she said, and she refused to say anything else or be moved from her place.

When Adamanta checked on her the next morning, she found she'd passed sometime in the night. Primrose grieved, but threw herself even harder into her last task: she hadn't been able to save her cousin, but she was determined to save her grandaughter!

She wouldn't allow her to fade and die, not when she was so young! It took over a several weeks, but when the birds of Spring finally started singing their songs Aster finally responded.

She still grieved, though, and she blamed herself for her parent's and Bungo's death. If she had stayed behind, Bungo and the youngsters wouldn't have gone, and they wouldn't have been distracted.

She was the reason they were dead, and she couldn't make it better. Words were worse than useless.

She threw herself into her training. If she'd been just a little bit better, maybe she'd have been able to save them. She needed to be faster, stronger. Her relatives and trainers watched with worry. Nothing they said seemed to get through to her.

When they forced her to take time off, she went on dangerous trips into the Old Forest and into the borderlands, seeking orcs and any other threats she could find. She would come home, wounded and disheveled, just to ask for more training, starting the cycle all over again.

Finally, everything came to a head. She headed out to the most dangerous area she could think of: the barrow downs. She picked out the biggest mound she could find. It was fortunately placed on the outskirts, but she wouldn't have cared if it was in the direct center.

She was determined to face this challenge, this threat. It would be a help if she could destroy it, right? She waited for the wight to show itself, arrow to her bow. As night fell, a fog settled in. She started to feel very sleepy, but jerked herself awake several times.

Finally, she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer.

Her last coherent thought was that perhaps this hadn't been the best idea. She woke to darkness. There was something sharp at her neck, and her limbs felt like lead. She felt a sudden terror, and realized with absolute clarity that she wanted to live.

Her parent's were probably ashamed at her behavior, but if she could just get out of here alive, she would do her best to do them proud for the rest of her life. She felt a surge of energy as she heard something moving in the darkness, and it chased the remaining cobwebs away.

She found a handle near her hand, and brought her dagger (was it her dagger? It felt so light) up to shove the sword at her throat away. She felt resistance, and realized that whatever was in here with her had grabbed the handle.

She thought frantically of what she knew of wights. They were undead spirits, summoned by the Witch King of Angmar and sent to inhabit the dead in this area. Even though he'd been vanquished, they'd remained. They came out at night to prey on whomever they could find and bewitch.

Which told her what? Think, think, think...

Destroy the body, and any others currently available, and it wouldn't be able to hurt her. She dodged as she heard a whistle. The sword swept by her.

All right. She couldn't see it, but it could see her. So she would have to rely on other senses. At least it seemed slow. She amended that thought as she barely managed to parry three whistling strokes in quick succession.

Okay. Her hearing was better than most. She could hear it moving, and the shuffle of its feet. She could smell it. The entire area stank of dust and decay, but it seemed a bit worse where this creature stood. That was about it, other than the breeze of the sword passing as she dodged.

All right, no more time to panic. Time to attack.

/

She cursed herself as she finally managed to find the exit. She kept having to kick off the wretched hands that were still trying to attack her. Note to whomever said to just break up their bodies: body parts can still attack. The smaller they are, the more more sides they can come at you from.

She opened the door, finding something strange about the sounds behind her. She turned, realizing the first light of dawn was just covering the horizon, and the bones behind her were shuffling back, away from the light. She felt a wicked smile cross her face. Exhausted she might be, but she'd rest and wait for the sun to get a little higher.

Then it was payback time. That axe looked like it might make a decent shovel. She'd let in the light, then strip this place to the ground. If she had time before darkness fell again, she'd fill it in, too.

See how well those bones moved covered in several feet of rocks and dirt. If she could cave in the walls...a lot of rocks and dirt.

/

She had to get a cart from a hobbbit that lived near the borders. He was a distant cousin, and a Brandybuck, so when he discovered what she'd done he went with her muttering the whole time about family and duty and foolish children.

She managed to accomplish her goals, though, which she didn't think she'd have been able to do otherwise. She paid him handsomely with her stolen gold, causing him to finally smile. He threw a few wary looks over his shoulders at the downs, and decided that he'd use his gains to move into the Shire proper.

Independence was not worth his life. He'd already been thinking of it what with the horrible winter. Indeed, he'd only been back to take stock of what he wanted to keep and what he'd leave behind. Now he just had a way to make the move much more comfortable.

/

Primrose and Hildigrim were waiting for her when she returned, riding in a borrowed cart that appeared to be carrying quite the load. She looked at their worried faces and felt guilty once more, this time for causing them to worry so. They shared an astonished look as she smiled gently at them.

"I think I'll stay around the Shire for a while. Maybe rent out my parent's smial to cousin Isengar. He's expressed an interest in moving out of the Took smials, and possibly even going on a few trips. I think it would be just about the right size. If it's all right with you, grandma, I'll move in with you. I don't want to be alone anymore."

Primrose beamed at her, her eyes moist.

"Certainly dear, certainly. No bother at all. But what is in this cart? I suppose I might be able to find room for it, but that is quite the luggage, my dear."

Aster looked over her shoulder, embarrassed.

"It's not my luggage, Grandma. It's the spoils from the wight I fought last week."

"What!"

/

If Aster thought that her grieving was over, she was very much mistaken. It still hit her at odd times, and everything seemed to have so many memories. Still, it was better. She found she was at least able to deal with things a little better, and her younger cousins were delighted to have their friend back.

If she was a little more serious, a little more motherly, they didn't say anything. Eventually, Aster started to notice something rather disturbing. As she got better, it seemed that Primrose was getting worse.

Her grandmother had taken to staring out the window for hours, her knitting in her lap. Her memory seemed to be slipping, too. Eventually, Aster spent most of her time in their smial taking care of her.

She wept bitterly as she realized her beloved grandmother was fading. She'd held on for her sake, but now seemed to be living more and more in a world she could not enter.

When she finally passed, Aster shut the doors and moved back in with her cousins. The Took smials were loud, and full of life. She needed that.

She found out a few weeks later that Primrose hadn't been the only one to pass recently. Her dear cousin Belladonna had passed less than a month before. She had probably received an invitation to her funeral, but she had been ignoring all invitations by that point, struggling with her grandmother. She apologized to Bilbo, though, as soon as she saw him.

They cried into each other's arms that night. The next morning he confessed all of his problems to her. He was only sixteen, and his Baggins relatives were trying to decide what to do with him.

No one seemed willing to take him in, though Longo and his wife Camelia Sackville seemed ready and willing to split up all of his material possessions. Gerontius had stepped in and prevented that, whisking Bilbo away, but he was old and had a great many duties.

They needed someone who was able to take over as his guardian, and they were having a hard time finding someone. Bilbo refused to impose on anyone with children, and most of the others had their own duties to attend to. Certainly none of them could move out to Hobbiton, as he would have to if he wanted to keep unwanted relatives from moving in.

As he spoke, Aster got a wonderful idea. She could do this. She could care for him, and teach him, and protect him. She might be the cause of his father's death, or she might not, but she could at least do this for him.

She was almost afraid to speak up. What would he say to her offer?

A very happy 'Yes!' apparently. She smiled at his enthusiasm. He had obviously been worrying about this for some time, and she was happy she could be the cause of someone's happiness for once.

It would be challenging, she was sure. She wasn't exactly the model of maturity and patience after all, and she was still grieving herself, but she would do her best. She smiled once again as he threw himself into his grandfather's arms. They'd make it work. Somehow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Once again, I don't own anything to do with the Hobbit. Sorry for the long break, but hey life happens. It took me a bit to remember which way I'd decided to take this, and I really hope no one lynches me. It's completely different from the original. That said, I hope all of you like it. Feel free to share ideas and criticism, as long as you keep your flames to yourself. Enjoy!**

Bilbo Baggins was having a singularly awful, wretched day. The chirping birds and bright sun merely served to rub in the fact, rather than relieving his ire in any way.

He sat on the bench in his front garden from which he'd spent many fine hours watching the neighbors pass, enjoying the breeze, and smoking in contentment.

On this morning however, the pipe was clenched between his teeth, unlit. His arms were crossed over his chest in a rather stubborn fashion, and his hair was wilder than normal from having his hands run through it repeatedly.

In truth his entire appearance was rather more rumpled than was his wont from the many times he had risen to pace and mutter, only to throw himself back down. Indeed, he was still muttering occasionally around his pipe.

"Cowardly...childish...self-centered...stodgy old hermit!"

The volume once again started to rise.

"I am not old! Or a disappointment to my parents! Just because I don't want to take an occasional trip or 'at least get married and have fauntlings to spoil' does not mean I'm wasting my life!"

Bilbo scowled even harder, chewing more thoroughly on his pipe. It was surely ruined by now, but the argument he'd had with his cousin/aunt figure Aster the night before was eating at him.

They'd argued before, but he had mostly just let her rant while he read or ate comfortably. He never expected her to just up and leave 'until he grew up or came to his senses!'

Leave she had, however. She had decided to take a week or two to visit kin over in the Took smials while he 'thought about his actions...or lack of them!' He'd show her actions. He would. The very first adventure he could think of, he was going to leave and let her regret any consequences.

The other option, finding a nice hobbit lass to court, didn't bear thinking about. (He was far too young, and all the ones he might have been interested in seemed to be taken, anyway. He couldn't abide the doe eyes of the young girls who had never faced any hardship worth mentioning, anyway. )

The longer he sat, the more determined he became. Now what would be a good adventure? A trip to the Blue Mountains, to find some dwarves? Or maybe a journey to Rivendell, to see the elves? His mother had been there in her youth. The farthest successful documented trip by any hobbit. Perhaps they'd even remember her. Of course, they'd probably just remind him of his Aunt...

Bilbo paused in his planning as a shadow crossed over his eyelids as he imagined his adventures. A strange old Man, dressed in gray, with a large walking stick...wait.

He probably wouldn't have recognized him, but he'd just been reviewing his mother's stories of her adventures, several of which had a similar character that played a very large part...

"I beg your pardon, but could you be my mother's dear friend, Gandalf the Gray?"

An incredibly pleased expression appeared on the now named wizard's face and a twinkle grew in his eye.

"Why yes, indeed. Are you Belladonna's son, Bilbo?"

Bilbo felt a little of the ire he was currently feeling desert him in the face of such an interesting diversion.

"Quite so, Bilbo Baggins at your service. What brings you here? You haven't been seen in these parts in many years."

The twinkle got brighter, if that was possible.

"I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure."

Bilbo felt his heart stop for a moment. A large, reckless grin grew on his face. His neighbors would have been horrified to see it.

"Well now. Why don't you sit down and tell me more of this...adventure."

/

A tall, golden haired young lady stood in the middle of a neat sitting room and cursed. Most who knew her would have been quite shocked at her language, for she rarely lost such control, but she felt it was quite justified at this particular moment.

Her steely gray eyes scanned the room, confirming once again that everything she'd heard had been true. Bilbo was not home.

Indeed, he was nowhere to be found, and gossip had him riding from the Shire on a pony of all things with a large group of dwarves and an elderly Man dressed in Gray. The gossips made particular note of a rather crazy grin and seemed to be blaming everything on her.

Her influence on the poor lad was finally showing, and someone should have done something years ago. Too late now, but no surprise, really.

She snorted quietly as she quickly put a few last things into her travel gear. They were probably more right than they knew, and she sent a quick apology to his parents for pushing him so hard. She'd only wanted him to become less of a hermit and maybe get married. Running off to get killed was certainly a surprise.

She blamed the Wizard for taking advantage of his vulnerable state. Oh she knew who that reported Man had to be. She'd heard enough stories over the Took tables, after all.

It had been a while since he'd dared to abscond with a hobbit. She thought that whole mess on Belladonna's last adventure, when he'd lost her cousin Hildifons would have put him off longer. Taking Belladonna's only child was just beyond decency, really.

She thought momentarily of asking her cousins for help. It was family, after all. But Fortinbras hadn't been Thain even a full year, and two of his uncles looked ready to pass within the next. No, the Tooks had enough troubles, and Bilbo was only adding to them.

She resolved to add his sense of timing to the blistering lecture he'd receive when she finally caught up with him. She felt something in her pocket shift, and scowled further, if it was possible.

A few minutes on placing his will with the proper authorities and not in easily burgled drawers would not be amiss, either. He was just lucky she'd arrived in time to take it off that wretched Lobelia, along with some of his spoons...again.

Indeed, the confrontation on the doorstep had certainly added to her already thunderous mood and she had been...less than diplomatic because of it. Yet another thing for the gossips to be scandalized over.

With a last check to make sure her weapons were in place and her pack balanced, she left the smial. She wouldn't admit it, but she was worried. She'd lost a week all ready, and it would take at least another day to buy enough food (for some reason the pantry was completely bare) and get Bilbo's will appropriately notarized and copies sent to the right people.

It was necessary, though. She might have plenty of money, but there was no guarantee that she'd find places to spend it further on, and she needed to make certain that whatever Bilbo was doing he'd have a home to come back to.

She set her face as she headed into the town proper. The faster she was done, the faster she could catch up.

She thrust the thought of ponies and head starts from her mind. She would follow, and she would find. Eru have mercy on any that tried to keep her from her goal, for she would have none. Especially for manipulative old codgers that liked to pretend to be kindly wizards!


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey Everyone! So...are you enjoying my new Aster? I'm finding she's growing on me, slowly. Anyway, be sure to let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoy it! As always, I own nothing to do with the Hobbit, save my character. That acts a bit like quite a few other characters out there, now that I think about it... :)**

Aster found herself once more cursing, if only in her head. She spared a mental apology to her grandmother as she rose from the soupy mud that was rapidly losing any chance of holding a track.

This blasted downpour had been tormenting her for the past three days, though, and she was fairly certain she had finally completely lost the trail. She'd been fortunate the night before to stumble upon one of her cousin's camp sites (she'd memorized all of the tracks of those she was pursuing by now) but it had been at least a day old and with only the vaguest of trails to follow she had been forced to slow until she finally lost it entirely.

She quickly scanned the damp green trees surrounding her. The good news was she could move slightly faster now. The bad news was that she might be speeding in the completely wrong direction. She pondered what she'd been told of the area over the years.

They had avoided what few settlements there were, but they seemed to be heading in the general direction of Rivendell and the mountains beyond. If she continued the way she was facing, she should come out at the mountains sooner or later, even if she missed the elvish city.

It would be a pain to find a trace of Bilbo's party, but it could be done. Even if she had to scour the whole of the area west of the Misty mountains. What worried her most were the occasional signs she'd seen of others trying to find the trail she followed.

A hint of movement out of the corner of her eye was the only warning she had to throw herself into a forward roll. As she came up to her feet facing the spot she'd just been standing, she tensed. A particularly ugly orc on a warg, scouts by the look of them, and her bow out of commission to protect the string from the damp.

Taking only a second to size up the situation, she fluidly unsheathed her short sword and charged as the warg managed to pull itself out of it's mud-assisted slide. Not giving her enemies any further chance to gather themselves, she vaulted the thrashing jaws, cleaving the rider's head off to allow her to attack from one of the few semi-blind spots the warg had.

Using it's momentary frustration and confusion to her advantage, she plunged her sword down in a short deadly arc. The sharp metal sung as it tore through the neck in front of it, barely slowed by the spine.

She really loved her blade.

With a last jump, Aster cleared the corpse as it tumbled to the ground. Quickly cleaning her weapon, she did her best to leave as few tracks as she could as she sped away. Where there was one, there would be more.

She really doubted they were tracking her. She was most likely a target of opportunity. By the same token they would not have been out in this deluge if they weren't looking for something.

Her luck being what it was, she'd bet her cousin's group had something to do with it. If she didn't move quickly though she would be the current target, merely an opportunity or no, just for being the only enemy they could find in this mess.

/

She'd finally lost her pursuers. She'd take the time to be grateful, but almost four days of cat and mouse in pouring rain had really worn her down.

None of her trips outside the Shire had ever been this bad, not even the time she was being chased by a small orc pack through the Old Forest and only missed death by Huorn by the skin of her teeth and the tree spirit's distraction with the orcs.

Allowing herself to rest back against the trunk of the tree she was currently inhabiting she groaned and pondered her situation. She still had most of her supplies and weapon's which was good.

She had finally lost all pursuit, which was also good.

The current lack of rain seemed almost irrelevant by comparison. However, it would take her some hours to recover, and she currently had no idea where she was.

Worse, she had no idea where Bilbo and his companions were, and there was a rather large pack of frustrated orc and wargs looking for them.

As she finished a final scan of her surroundings, she allowed her eyes to close. She would do Bilbo no good at this moment. She only hoped that Wizard did a decent job of protecting him. She resolutely thrust every story she'd ever heard of his failures from her mind.

/

Aster stared upwards, wide eyed.

She had found the orc pack after two days of searching. They were very definitely dead.

She had tried unsuccessfully to find any sign of the dwarves or Bilbo on the battlefield, but the ground had been so torn up by the wargs and horses that she'd eventually given up. Calculating that they had most likely been targeting Bilbo's group, she back tracked them.

She guessed that they had found his group's trail shortly before they so suddenly stopped pursuing her. With the rains ending at the same time and the greater ground they could cover on their mounts, as well as the general area the dwarves had likely been headed, it seemed likely, anyway.

Worth a shot when she had no other leads to go on.

Which led her to where she was now. What on earth were those moronic dwarves thinking, leading Bilbo into the clutches of three mountain trolls! Doing her best to calm her panic, she finally tore her eyes from the gigantic (and obviously recent) statues.

The orcs had never come this far, thankfully. Not that it particularly made her feel better. They had run straight through, indicating they'd been called onward by one of their own.

She had only found the tracks leading away from the camp because she'd wanted to refill her canteen before she continued.

She quickly shook her head to get rid of such useless thoughts. She needed to focus if she was going to put together what happened here and where they'd gone next. One thorough examination later, she shook her head at the sloppy job the dwarves had done hiding their 'treasure'.

She had given everything inside the horde a quick look, but what remained after the dwarves had picked it over really wasn't impressive and she'd needed to leave.

Especially after the sight of a woman's head on a pole. She'd been forced to leave to vomit, at that point, then dig the poor woman a grave. She'd cursed the dwarves for the thousandth time for leaving that chore to her. They could have at least shown a little common decency.

/

Aster was strangely grateful to find the spot the dwarves had faced a couple of riderless warg scouts. It was proof that even after all the terrible things she'd seen, they were still all right.

She took the time to make sure she found the tracks of every single one of them. Moronic or not, she'd found a strange fondness for what she'd read of them and their interactions with each other. There were the prints of the one who always seemed to be cooking, and here was the one who seemed to interact with Bilbo the most, and here were the pair that had led Bilbo into trouble with the trolls...idiots.

Relieved that they were all accounted for, even the wizard that had apparently done precious little so far, she also found herself curious about the person they'd met here, and what on earth did he have pulling his sled? The tracks resembled rabbits, if they grew to the size of dogs and jumped large logs with no effort.

In any case, she was simply grateful she was finally on the trail again.

/

She closed her eyes in frustration as she was led back to the battle ground. Their tracks entered, but they didn't leave. No dead dwarves, either. She glared out at the dead grass and giant rocks.

If they weren't here, and they hadn't left, that meant that they must have been carried off by the elves. Now, a few years before she would have been ecstatic for the opportunity to visit the elves in their own city.

However, the past few years her encounters with them had...changed. They weren't as willing to pass off her complete lack of knowledge of their culture as they had been.

There had been several times she'd been faced with an elf that had clearly seemed to be waiting for a specific answer to something they said, that had asked after her parents when she couldn't give it.

She wasn't stupid. She was aware that she looked very elvish, at least on some level, and that her being viewed as an adult would probably not be seen favorably by her grandfather's kin. Thus, she had never changed her answer to such inquiries, even after her parents deaths.

However, being told her parents wanted nothing to do with them was no longer being taken so well by the elvish travelers. She wasn't sure if it was because she was older, or because they were tired of her 'parents' rudeness, but either way she had found it best to avoid all interactions with elves for the past couple of years.

She really didn't want to face an entire city full of them.

She was positive she'd be spotted for the intruder she was within minutes and never even see her cousin for the interrogations.

Unfortunately, this severely limited her options. Elves obviously patrolled this area, so she'd have to move quickly if she wanted to avoid them.

This was made more difficult by having no idea where the dwarves were headed. She wasn't even sure Rivendell hadn't been their destination, and they could take off in almost any direction, even back to the Shire.

If she wanted to avoid the elves, she couldn't just hang around nearby and hope to spot them as they left. Which really left one option, if she didn't want to go in extremely large circles around the elves territory and hope she didn't run into a traveler or Ranger that would report her presence.

Nodding her head decisively, Aster turned to face the mountains. She would find a spot to watch the surrounding plains, and if she didn't see anything within two weeks she'd cast up and down the mountains for a while.

If that didn't work, she'd make a large circle of the city.

If that didn't work...she'd probably be forced to actually enter and talk to someone. She really hoped it didn't come to that.


	6. Chapter 6

**Once again, I don't own any rights to any copyrighted information, especially that involving any of Tolkien's works or any adaptations thereof. I'm just enjoying sharing some thoughts. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. The feedback really helps!  
**

Finally!

After almost two weeks of searching, dodging elves and orcs alike, progress! She eyed the gray clad form speeding ahead of her hungrily.

She might not know where the others were, but she would bet if she followed the wizard, she'd find them eventually. She allowed a predatory grin to cross her lips.

"Keep running, wizard. It won't do you any good. And when I catch you..."

Gracefully flipping off the boulder she'd been using as a vantage point, Aster allowed herself to fall into a ground- eating lope. It would do her no good to catch him if she exhausted herself, after all.

It would make it far too difficult to get some answers. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Bilbo had better be all right.

/

Elrond scowled at the report before him. The saying that 'when it rains, it pours' came to mind. Or perhaps 'bad news comes in threes.'

First those extremely uncouth dwarves and their quest to stir up a dragon. Even with his faith in his friend, there were really far too many things that could go wrong there.

Then the other news Gandalf brought: the dark was stirring. The very possibility that the Wraith King was free once again was enough to freeze the marrow. Even if Glorfindel would appreciate it. He'd probably call it an 'epic rematch' or some such foolishness.

A small reluctant smile flitted across his face at the thought of his friend's antics. He forced himself to focus on the paper in front of him, and his third problem. The elfling in the Shire.

He had been truly curious about that child over the years, but with all of his responsibilities he'd never quite found the time to investigate the mystery fully. Originally he'd sent in a Ranger that had reported three half-elven children.

A few years later they had experienced that horrible winter and everyone had been very busy for a few years beating back the orcs and goblins that had taken advantage of the situation. Not to mention the ordinary rebuilds and refilling their stores.

There had been no time to think on long established mysteries.

It didn't help that the hobbits had drawn into themselves for a few years, barely coming out of the Shire to trade hurriedly in Bree before they dashed back to their homes.

Still, it had been several decades since then and as the hobbits started relaxing and gossiping once again he'd started to hear strange reports from the Rangers they interacted with.

The stories were often vague or deliberately sensational, so no one could say for sure, but it seemed that the little elfling that so delighted those traveling between Rivendell and the Grey Havens was not the child of an elf and a hobbit, but of two half-elven hobbits.

He had dismissed that story for some time for a great many reasons, of which the two most prominent still gave him pause.

The Ranger that had first looked into the issue had been clear that there were three children, which meant if she was the child of the first two they had been far too young to have a child of their own.

Also, those that had seen her spoke of her inner light. He had never heard of a child of a half elf that had been able to awaken the light of the Eldar without the help of the Valar themselves. It shouldn't have been possible, even if both her parents did indeed have elvish parentage.

Which brought up another issue. How did both parents have elvish heritage without having been siblings? It was very rare for one elf to marry a mortal, let alone two, and where were said elves? There had not been even one reported sighting of an actual elf living in the Shire.

As more and more reports came that the child didn't seem to know about some of the important aspects of her light and people, he had grown increasingly frustrated, as he was sure his people were also.

He had always felt that his hands were tied because of her parents and their wishes (never mind that they didn't seem to be old enough to make such important decisions themselves...while the whole community took delight in an elfling, a parent's wishes were paramount.)

However, after two years of no reports of the child at all he'd asked one of his allies to dig into the matter and do his best to find out her actual history. The Ranger had just returned, rather wide eyed and exhausted. He'd pushed himself hard to get back to give the report that he now held in his hands.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting off a headache.

It didn't help the pit in his stomach, however. The Man had found a hobbit that knew the girl personally. He'd been reluctant to talk at first, but after a few pints the story had come out.

Her grandmother's had been rather wild cousins and after one of their 'runs in the woods' they'd come back pregnant.

They hadn't objected to their children marrying each other, so they couldn't have been siblings.

The children had married at an average age for hobbits, but a scandalous age for an elf.

They had then had a child, that had participated in battle when she reached her (shudder) hobbit majority and had lost her parents during said battle. Both of them.

Which meant she'd lied every single time she'd spoken to an elf since.

She had then been rather active in 'adventuring' though she had taken the time to raise a cousin.

He tossed the report down.

An elfling raising a child, participating in battles, and facing death and loss. Lying to her kin!

He took a deep breath and did his best to distance his emotions so that he could think logically. This situation would make any elf shudder in horror, but he hadn't lived as long as he had without learning to control himself.

So. What questions were left, and what should be done now?

First, the child. She had obviously been independent for years. She would not react well to being forced to do anything. She was also only a decade or three from her elvish majority and she might be slightly more physically mature because of her mixed heritage.

Her parents had been able to have her, after all, and no elfling their age would have been capable of that. Even with the difficulty her mother had reportedly had.

So she would be at least an adolescent, if not a young adult. A very stubborn and temperamental time in any person's development.

Which meant no dragging her to an elvish settlement to be pampered and cherished as any elfling should be. Sadly, that stage of her life had been lost, poor child. What to do with her then?

He supposed they could leave her there for a few years, though he really should find a volunteer to confront her and hopefully teach her of the blessings of the light of the Eldar and share the parts of their culture she had so obviously missed.

With a decisive nod, he resolved to do just that.

Which left the question of who the original elves, her grandfathers, were. He pondered that as he returned to the report to finish the last paragraph or so.

His composure only lasted a few words.

She had golden hair and grey eyes, and had left to follow the cousin she'd been raising as he'd run off with dwarves.

With wide eyes, he shot to his feet.

There had been no elf with the party of dwarves, but there couldn't be any other hobbits traveling with such strange companions. Which meant something had happened to her or she'd lost their trail and was now wandering the area where Gandalf had spoken of 'dark things stirring'. There'd been orcs and mountain trolls, for Eru's sake!

As he did his best not to panic, a lot of little clues he'd dismissed over the years fell into place all at once.

Golden hair. How many elves on this side of the sea had truly golden hair, and not a pale gold? Glorfindel had spoken almost a century ago of getting married to a Ranger woman that had rejected him. But he never spoke of a child. He'd also been clear she was of the Rangers...but had he never considered she might have been a guest as well?

Still, that would only have accounted for one half-elven child, and the report was clear that the cousins got pregnant at the same time...who could have...

Elrond collapsed into his chair, the incident returning to his mind as if it was only the day before. Glorfindel returning hurt and brooding from his rejection, sharing his pain with an old friend.

But as he'd comforted his friend, his son had avoided him.

It had been one of the only times his son had gone anywhere without his twin, and he'd spent the next decade hunting orcs with his brother with even more fanaticism than usual. In fact, he'd rarely seen his son at all during that time.

Oh, Eru.

Elrohir...why hadn't he told him? He might have figured it out sooner. As his heart hurt at the pain his son had never shared with him, his sharp mind continued to piece things together.

Grey eyes, as he and his children had. A gift of Choice only his line was given...though it must have been a gift from Eru Himself to have it waken at all. As a final thought came to him, he put his head in his hands in a rare display of emotion and groaned.

His grandchild.

Well, great-grandchild but still. The life she had been forced to lead, and all the missed years...

His head shot up.

His grandchild, lost in the wilderness chasing dwarves. Dwarves that happened to be headed straight for a dragon's lair!

His mind flew quickly over what his options were, finally settling on a course of action. First, send out scouting parties to see if they could find any sign of her. Second...he needed to find his son and have a rather long overdue conversation. Third...well that would depend on what came from the first two, wouldn't it?

/

Aster held her breath, doing her best not to make a sound. She had somehow lost Gandalf just when she thought she was about to catch him. He'd rounded an outcropping, and suddenly, no Gandalf.

She had continued around the mountain but all that had led her to was an ambush by goblins. She had killed them fairly quickly, as there were only four, but it had forced her to slow in order to hide her tracks.

Which led her to this position.

She scowled silently at the wargs and their riders as they sped by below her. Any sound from her and she was likely to be spotted and shortly thereafter killed. Preferably.

Despite signs that they'd been in a fight not long before there were far too many for her to fight successfully. She almost groaned in frustration as a large white orc slowed underneath her, his warg growling impatiently.

Carefully sliding one hand to the hilt of her sword she tensed slightly in anticipation, pushing her fear to the side. If she'd been discovered, she'd sell her life dearly.

She almost fell as she managed to abort her reaction as a large goblin came out of the shadows of the mountain, skulking up to the large orc. She couldn't really hear what they said but it didn't really matter. What few words she caught were in the filthy language of the orcs.

She allowed a faint breathe of relief through her nose as the goblin faded back into the shadows and the orcs ran on. That had been far too close for comfort.

She pushed back a long strand of blonde hair. Now to figure out what had happened to her cousin and his companions.

/

Okay, finding where the group emerged from the mountain: fairly easy.

She'd stayed in the tree for the remainder of the night, and the goblins were unwilling to venture into daylight. No problem there.

Following the group's panicked running was also easy. Dead wargs, fire burned trees, nothing to it. Only to find this: the long, long drop off the edge of a cliff.

If she hadn't seen the orcs afterwards she'd be panicking right now, but they'd been far too unhappy for things to have gone well for them. Also, there were signs of wargs being lifted and thrown, with the occasional strange markings on the ground or trees.

She'd almost call them talons if birds got that...oh right. Gandalf was said to be friends with the Eagles of Manwe.

Aster allowed her worry to fade. Her brow knit together moments later as she thought about what that truly meant. Shortly after that she spun and kicked a rock off the cliff, breathing deeply to hold in the screams and curses she wanted to vent.

Honestly she was raised better than this, but really, how did that wizard keep doing this to her? It felt like everything was conspiring to keep her from catching up to her wayward cousin.

Huffing, she did her best to calm herself down as she tried to come up with a course of action. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried to think.

She couldn't stay here. This area was likely to be swarming with goblins every night for a long time.

She could try following the orcs but they not only outnumbered her by a rather frightening amount they were riding wargs, which would make them quite a bit faster than she was. She also wouldn't know if they decided to back track until the wargs jaws were snapping at her. Not the most favorable of outcomes.

Which basically left getting off this mountain as fast as possible and out of the mountains entirely as soon as she could. At least she knew they were heading east still. It was extremely unlikely they'd stop anywhere in the mountains, which meant...what?

She didn't really have any memory of maps of this area. She would either need to find one, or find a traveler willing to share his knowledge with her.

She snapped her eyes back open and started along the cliff, searching for a way down. At least she had a plan of action now.

/

Aster looked ahead of herself, quite relieved. She could at least see some grassland, which meant the end of these wretched mountains. She was fairly certain she'd come much farther south than she'd planned on but at least she would hopefully be done dodging goblins.

Her stealth had served her well, but she'd woken to signs that they were looking for something two days before. She'd managed to evade them but it had still been far too close for her comfort.

Her eyes narrowed. That was smoke on the horizon, and too much of it to be a single fire which meant...well, hopefully it meant civilization. She'd be careful but she really, really hoped that there was an inn there.

She tried not to think about how filthy she felt as she thought about the possibility of a warm bath. Quick, vigilant scrubs in icy mountain streams and slightly burnt meat over a campfire really got old after a while.

She almost groaned at the thought of a feather bed.

Even a straw mattress would be welcome. The chance to avoid yet another night of cat naps in a tree was enough to make her back plead for relief. She had meant to cast about for some sign of Bilbo and his companions, but...

Who was she kidding. She had no idea where to even begin looking and at this point for any slight sign of possible comfort she would happily walk on thistles. She could be such a hobbit sometimes!

With a faint huff of amusement, she set eager feet towards the first chance of a good rest she'd had in far too long.


	7. Chapter 7

Aster looked on stoically as the last of the pires burned.

It had been a small town, all right. Unfortunately, it looked like a large amount of orcs had gotten there before her. There were very few structures even partially standing and the rest...She shuddered, trying not to remember.

She could feel the tear tracks that streaked her ash covered face, and she grimaced. She looked to the horizon, where a forest was barely visible, her eyes almost unseeing.

Was this what she had dreamed of as a child? Outside the borders of the Shire, things were even worse than she had ever thought they could be.

Her eyes sharpened. Somewhere out here was a hobbit she'd encouraged to travel and have adventures, and she'd let nothing keep her from fixing that mistake. She looked to the container slung on her hip. This hadn't been a total loss.

She winced slightly at the thought and sent a mental apology to the villages former inhabitants. She had managed to scrounge a few provisions, though, and a few other treasures. Like the map in it's container on her hip. It showed quite a bit of area east of the Misty Mountains, and the former owner had starred his village with a bit of pride.

She blessed that owner, even as she prepared to take his prized possession.

She resolutely faced the trees, leaving without looking back. She'd seen far too much of this place.

/

Before the afternoon was over, Aster fell gratefully into the stream she'd found. She knew she should be more cautious, but at this point she really didn't care. She had to get the ashes of that small hamlet off her skin and the smell off her clothes.

It took over an hour and several washes, but she finally put her damp and wrinkled clothes back on and prepared to face whatever came next. She really was fortunate no enemies had stumbled across her.

She took another look at her map, keeping an eye on the sun to determine where she was. Thankfully, she was fairly certain she knew where she was going at this point. The mountain with dwarf runes blocked out with the picture of a dragon pretty much said it all.

The only place any nearer that in any way depicted her bad luck with her cousin's journey was the elven kingdom somewhere in the trees in front of her.

It was a good secondary place to look, anyway, but her money was on the dragon infested mountain. (Just from her previous experiences with this cursed trip. Why hadn't she encouraged Bilbo in his hermit ways?)

Either way, she needed to somehow successfully navigate through the forest to the village of Men the map said rested on the lake. If it was still there, of course.

At any rate, that was her course. She'd take this 'Forest Road' which would allow her to avoid the elven route and make her way from there to the lake, where she could make inquiries and decide which course to take first: elves or Dragon.

She sighed, then squared her shoulders.

Canteen and extra canteen she'd scrounged full? Check. All the provisions she'd managed to gather? Check. Weapons and armor? Check. Courage and strength of will? Well, stubbornness and pride, anyway.

/

Aster burst out of the trees, jumping roots and boulders in her rush to get somewhere, anywhere, else away from that forest.

Anyone watching could have been forgiven for thinking that she was running for her life from pursuers both strong and numerous, but as the minutes ticked by nothing happened. Other than the grace she showed as she tripped over a rock and fell into a semi hysterical heap, of course.

When she finally managed to calm her breathing, Aster glared at the trees over her shoulder. That place had been...well, words didn't really describe it, but she was pretty sure she'd be having nightmares for years.

Besides the constant patrols of orcs, there had been humongous spiders that kept trying to eat her, weird creatures that lunged out of hidden burrows in the ground, and a suspicious lack of anything even resembling proper food and water.

She was sure that if the path had been any longer she'd have died. At least it had been fairly straight, wide, and easy to follow. If she hadn't had to travel next to it (instead of on it) with all the horrors that kept trying to confuse or eat her, it might have been barely memorable.

Her ears pricked. That sounded like water...hopefully it would actually be drinkable.

As she heaved her tired body upright she spared one last glare over her shoulder, then set about finding a place to drink, eat, and sleep. Preferably in that order.

/

Aster was ecstatic to see that the town was still there.

She wasn't just going to go barging in though. No, if this trip had taught her anything it was that nothing could be trusted to be as it seemed and the Valar had decided somewhere along the way that her life would make an amusing plaything.

So she would do what any sane, non-paranoid person would do: stealthily creep around the outskirts, maybe even on the roofs at night, and see what she could find out from eavesdropping and snooping.

It was the only sensible course, really.

With luck, the dwarves and Bilbo would all ready be here and she could join them. Whether they liked it or not. With slightly less luck, they would have left for the mountain and she'd have to hurry to catch up so they could face the Dragon together, as family should. With absolutely horrible luck, they'd still be somewhere in the evil forest and she'd have to go in and enlist the elves aid in finding them.

She shuddered and frantically put that last thought behind her. They'd be here. They had to be.

/

Of course no one would have heard of them.

She was fairly certain they hadn't been here either, because Mrs. Blitter was still gossiping with the honorable Widow Mayweather about the last caravan of Men that had come through six months before and Mrs. Jopplin's rather premature baby.

She was pretty sure a bunch of dwarves that wanted to go fight a Dragon at least trumped that.

She lay on Mrs. Jopplin's roof (fairly sweet lady, from what she could tell) as the hour turned towards midnight. She scowled at the stars.

The Valar really did hate her, didn't they? She was having a hard time deciding what to do at this point, honestly.

On the one hand, she could follow the river up until she found elves as she'd heard the villagers did and try to enlist their aid, which she really didn't want to do.

Or, she could head to the mountain and hope that the dwarves had simply decided to avoid the settlement as they had almost every other one and gone on themselves. And hadn't gotten eaten or killed.

She tossed that thought from her mind with a sharp shake of her head.

No thoughts like that! Besides, that would likely have caused some sign that the villagers would have seen.

She sighed once again. She was doing that far too often lately.

She really didn't want to go into the forest, but if there was still no sign of them in a couple of days she'd have to...She brightened up suddenly.

There was a third option. Those orcs had been following the group pretty closely, so she could just make a quick check around the lake and see if she saw any signs that indicated dwarves, hobbits, or orcs.

Perfect!

She shoved down the sensible portion of her mind that kept telling her to go see the elves. If she had to do it, she would. But she'd make very sure there was no other course first.

She sent a quick glare in the direction of the trees, and prepared for a quick nap. Despite the chance one of the Men would see her, it was still safer than sleeping in the trees.

She'd probably never look at a forest the same way again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Next installment! Yay! I hope everyone enjoys it. A special thanks to everyone that reviewed! I'll try to reply more personally later, but a recent surgery really took it out of me for a while and I'm struggling just to get this mostly pre-written chapter up. I will get there! You guys are so awesome, encouraging me and helping me over the rough spots. I'll try to get the next chapter out soon, but at this point I'm floundering a little trying to see where this story wants to go. It completely jumped the rails of what I had planned for it about chapter four, and I sometimes have a hard time trying to keep ahead of my characters and steer towards what I think should be next. I will be including more of Aster's reasons for being leery of elves at some point, but I think the next chapter will once again bring in some others perspectives. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and as always I own nothing of the Hobbit or Tolkien. Thanks!**

Aster's eyes widened as she came to rest on a roof almost a week later.

The Jopplin's were buzzing with all the news. Dwarves had come, and left. Well, there were a couple left. (Mrs. Jopplin had wanted to take the poor boys in, but her husband had put his foot down. No sickly dwarves around their baby!) She listened as they apparently rehashed their argument, then darted off.

Somewhere in this town there were a couple of dwarves that would have news about her cousin. Especially about what the plans were to get into the mountain to fight the dragon.

The villagers were very clear in their warnings to their children that the gate was sealed and had been for years. If the dwarves had a way to overcome that...well it would be easier to ask the 'boys' than slowly follow their tracks or scour the entire mountain by herself.

She sent another scowl to the sky. It was just like her Valar-cursed luck that they would come and go in the mere days she was gone. At least most of them seemed okay.

/

As a sword swished through the place where her head had been, Aster brought her own sword around in a complicated sweep that took the orc's sword arm, then came back to take it's head.

She hadn't gotten very far in her search before she'd been almost blind-sided by this nasty and his four even uglier buddies. He'd been the last.

As she tried to catch her breath, she found it stolen once again as she straightened up just in time to see the most beautiful elf she'd ever seen gracefully battle his way through yet more orcs.

Part of her mind wondered where they kept coming from and how no Men seemed to have even noticed. The rest of her cataloged the strange elf's fighting strategies and the graceful flow of his movements.

As he finished the last of those currently facing him she felt his eyes meet hers across the water separating them with an intense light. She couldn't quite interpret the expression. Then he was gone, chasing a shadow.

She almost followed him, her feet moving of their own accord, but the shrill scream of a child pulled her the other way.

She ran as swiftly as she could, jumping a canal and beheading an orc as it tried to enter a small home through a wrecked door.

She thought she caught a glimpse of moonlight off of silver hair out of the corner of her eye, but she ignored it in favor of skewering the next orc in front of her and dodging another's retaliatory strike.

After that, it seemed mere moments of aiding a surprised looking red haired she-elf before the handsome elf she'd seen earlier came crashing through the roof with yet another orc.

As the bodies settled and the children started to calm, she performed a quick scan of the room.

Three children of Men, one of whom could almost be considered an adult.

Three dwarves, one of whom looked incredibly pale and sickly.

Two elves, one of whom...Intense grey eyes once again locked with her own, but this time there were no enemies or water ways between them.

She forced herself not to swallow nervously.

As she tried to think of something courteous to say, she found herself frantically drawing a blank. She'd never been the best at polite chit chat and months of living rough and having enemies as her only sentient contact had really taken its toll.

As he stepped forward she had to forcibly prevent herself from stepping back. She had never been a coward or terribly shy, but something about this elf...oh his mouth was moving again.

What had he said? Her elvish wasn't the best at any time being mostly what the traveling elves had taught her and Bilbo had tried to drill into her between her many trips...

Oh great, he was starting to look angry. Yet still attractive. What was wrong with her? It was like she'd never seen a good looking guy before, and this was really not the time or place! As he took a much more threatening step forward, she did the first thing that came to mind.

Quickly stepping behind a dwarf, she did her best to calm him down. Probably much too quickly, with a rather high and slightly shaky voice.

"I'm sorry, sir elf, but I don't know you and my business here is with these dwarves. They absconded with my cousin, you see. Not that he wasn't willing. Rather crazily happy about it actually, if the gossips had anything right, anyway."

Without breaking eye contact, she spoke to her reluctant blond shield.

"So um, Mister dwarf? Do you have any idea how my cousin Bilbo is? I've been chasing him for rather a long time, you see, and some really awful things keep happening, and I really need to see him and make sure he isn't getting himself killed..."

"STOP!"

She cut herself off rather quickly at the angry face of the elf who seemed to be coloring rather rapidly.

If the expression of shear outrage on his face was any indication, she hadn't really made the best first impression. Before she could say anything else, though, he visibly restrained himself and turned to the redhead.

"Tauriel, I must go make sure the town is safe. Try to get some more...coherent answers from this elleth and join me as soon as you can."

He turned back to Aster and seemed about to say something. As he met her eyes, he shook his head sharply and left quickly through the door. Now why did she feel so mortified?

/

With a great act of will Aster managed to keep herself from eyeing the door the taller blonde had left through wistfully and instead turned to the newly named 'Tauriel' warily.

She felt guilty for the brief moment of relief she felt when the darkest dwarf cried out and clutched his leg, falling down.

She allowed herself to be moved out of the way as the others rushed to him. She knew some healing but it was all basic field medicine. From what she could see, she would be no help.

As the last bandage was removed she almost gagged and clarified the thought: she doubted any one would be of much help at this point.

The golden haired dwarf at his head caught her eye, glaring fiercely. She ducked her head, ashamed at what he'd probably read on her face. She turned to the little family, deciding it was best for her to do as she had so often in her families' smials: comfort and distract the young.

Her mind was almost forcibly sent back to that winter. Try to keep them distracted, and do everything you could to keep them from thinking of the tragedies happening right outside their small worlds.

She felt her palms begin to sweat as she was forcefully thrown from horrible memory to horrible memory, eventually running through the last few months and that small village.

She came forcefully back to herself as she felt a child's small hand on her arm, finding herself once more facing the golden dwarf. Whatever he'd seen in her face had him clutching his brother's (she was pretty sure he'd called him that) arm. He wasn't scowling anymore, though.

If anything, she thought his expression most reminded her of a weary traveler that has met a fellow on the road, his own eyes a little haunted.

She really didn't want to know what had put that look in his eyes, and she was grateful as yet another dwarf came bounding in the door with some plants.

She allowed the child holding her arm to claim her attention for a moment. She gave her a gentle smile which must have reassured her as she settled back against her sister. Aster thought about saying something, but they were all distracted a moment later as Tauriel started to glow and chant.

Aster felt something in her stir as she looked on in wonder. She was actually quite shocked when she started to glow herself. Tauriel looked at her sharply, without breaking her cadence, then jerked her head towards the table the dwarf was laying on.

Aster was confused and unsure of what was going on. At another sharp, insistent gesture she hurried forward.

She paused at the table and Tauriel swiftly grabbed one of her hands, placing it with her own. As she brought her other hand over to cover the others, she felt something she'd never felt before.

She sensed something hot and angry under her hands, but there was a warmth that seemed to be soothing it away coming from Tauriel. She tried to bring that strange sense to flow with the warmth, slowly smoothing it out and meshing them together.

Just as she felt she succeeded she felt the power, for that is what it was, jump forward into the dwarf. It flew through his body righting everything it could sense wrong and strengthening his body, until it could finally take no more and tried to eject them. She would have tried to continue, but the older elleth pulled her hands away.

"That's enough. Any more and his body would reject it and possibly injure itself fighting with us."

She smiled at her, before continuing to speak.

"You did very well for a first timer, though. Am I right that was your first time?"

Aster just stared back, unsure what to say. Tauriel tilted her head to the side, a strange suspicion overtaking her.

"You seemed quite surprised. Have you never felt your inner light before? Surely your parents have brought it to the fore when you celebrated your coming of age?"

Aster felt her eyes widening as she found herself feeling rather trapped. The piercing, suspicious eyes that accompanied all the strange questions were really starting to freak her out. Or maybe that was the questions themselves. Hello, interrogation and goodbye, independence.

The explosion from the mountain was once again a relief. Why was she feeling so relieved tonight about bad things happening? She was a horrible person.

/

Well, the awkward questions had been delayed quite a while, and if she had anything to say about it they'd be delayed quite a bit longer.

The dragon was dead, the dwarves were leaving, and if she wanted to she could go with them.

As she looked over the devastation in front of her though, she knew she could make only one choice. As the dark dwarf, Kili, looked occupied she turned her attention to his brother. She had to admit he was nice to look at for a dwarf. Or a hobbit. Or a Man. Not quite as good looking as that elf, though.

She mentally slapped herself and did her best to focus.

She smiled at him, her usual self-assured confidence coming forward for the first time in what felt like weeks.

"Mister Fili? Could you tell my cousin Bilbo that I'm looking for him? I'll go find him myself in a bit, it's just..."

She looked around her.

"By the time I could get to the mountain I don't think I'd make any difference if someone was hurt and I trust you and Oin to take care of those that might need some care...but these people really need me, and I can really help. You understand, right?"

She turned serious eyes back just to find the golden dwarf and the older healer smiling brightly at her. She was surprised at how boyish it made them look.

"Don't worry, Miss Aster. We'll look after Bilbo for you until you can get there to do it yourself."

She smiled back at them.

"You better! I still have to have words with him about listening to wizards and being carried off by dwarves!"

As they laughed and prepared to cast off, he threw in a last comment.

"We thought Bilbo was crazy when he told us elves were great and his cousin could prove it but you really are something..."

She flushed brightly as he threw her a wink and Kili rushed passed her. The color drained quickly though when she heard a rather irate voice from behind her.

"Did I miss the memo that all elleths were going crazy?!"

She turned rather swiftly to find herself pierced once again by a sharp gray gaze that was starting to become rather familiar.

She straightened unconsciously, and found herself responding almost automatically as she would anyone who took that tone with her in the Shire.

"I beg your pardon? Did your mother perchance drop you on your head as an infant? Who are you to speak to me that way?!"

As Tauriel's eyes bugged out and the handsome elf sputtered for a moment, Aster felt a sense of foreboding. It had always served her well, so she did the first thing she could think of to get away gracefully. Doing her best to keep her haughty pose, she blitzed.

A swift attack with decisive action.

"If you'll excuse me there are people wounded and dying, and I could spend my time far better helping them than socializing on the beach."

With that quick shot (said perhaps a little too swiftly to keep her nervousness from completely showing) she darted away, grabbing the first person that appeared to need assistance she could find.

She watched the elves out of the corner of her eye though. The blond started forward angrily, but Tauriel grabbed his arm and held him back as she spoke quietly. Aster didn't know what she said but as they left she felt grateful to the older elleth.

As she turned back to the elderly man, she pondered that a bit. Elleth. She was pretty positive at this point that she could count herself elven. The glowy light and Tauriel's reaction to it pretty much guaranteed it.

She frowned a little, disturbed.

She had always thought of herself as an elvish Hobbit. Now it seemed she was a hobbity Elf. Only slightly hobbity, at that, what with her weapons work and adventures.

She was pulled from her troubles by the concerned voice of the elder. She smiled at him, focusing back on what she was supposed to be doing. She could ponder the mysteries of her life later. Right now, she had work to do and people to help.


End file.
